


well, alrighty aphrodite

by liebstes



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, but gently!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liebstes/pseuds/liebstes
Summary: “My Gods,” Pat whispers, laughing slightly. “You two are going to ruin me, one day.”Achilles’ laughter makes his head bounce, as he feels a hand run up and down his hip, soothing. “Only in a good way, I hope?”The corners of his mouth lift involuntarily. “Yes, I expect so,” he muses.Achilles and Zagreus have a God's stamina. Patroclus attempts to keep up.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 167





	well, alrighty aphrodite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eggchef](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggchef/gifts).



> for egg. youve become one of my closest friends in the fandom and i appreciate you so much, no matter how many toe sucking emotes or donut fucking art you send. but seriously. please stop sending those. 
> 
> many thanks to my Cousins™ for all the brainrot, specifically to addie and luddles for being AMAZING beta readers. this fic would not be half as good without you two. thank you. 
> 
> lastly, happy valentines day <3

Fate is a messy thing. 

In life, he hadn’t expected for _Aristos Achaion_ to become his philtatos. Hadn’t expected to get dragged along to a seemingly endless war, a war in which he would bloom under its conditions even less. Best of the Myrmidons, they called him. It still makes him laugh. 

He gave up trying to expect what the Fates had in store for him long ago. No use driving oneself mad attempting to follow the red string of fate, Patroclus figured. 

Still. There are moments where it’s difficult to not question how he’d landed where he did. Though, Gods know, that’s not always a bad thing. 

“Pat– _fuck,_ ” Achilles groans, thrusting in harshly one last time, completely flush to Patroclus' back. His eyes close as he feels the cock inside him twitch and Achilles’ seed spill into him, his own length dribbling precum in response. 

He can’t even think about finishing himself off before he feels a hand surrounding him, thumbing at the wetness. “You going to come, sir?” Zagreus teases, shit-eating grin practically audible. A retort dies on Patroclus' tongue as the Prince twists his wrist and squeezes, earning a strangled moan in response instead. 

He doesn’t even flinch as Achilles pulls out, too engulfed in Zagreus’ presence as Zag works him with his hand, leaning forward to lave soft licks and bites on his neck. The wave of pleasure in his stomach grows, hips thrusting into Zag’s grip. His voice is low, ragged. “Close. I’m–” 

Achilles’ touch ghosts down his back, drawing closer to the wetness that seeps out of him. “Beautiful,” he hears Achilles whisper, pushing his cum back into Patroclus with his thumb. He gasps, one hand tightening on Zagreus’ hip as his cock weeps harder. 

A bite sharper than the rest forces a whine out of his throat, eyes clenched shut as the feeling in his gut grows. Zagreus soothes over the reddened flesh with his tongue, hand tightening one last time on his cock. “Come for us.”

His head falls back on Achilles’ shoulder, nearly laying all of his weight on him as he rides out his orgasm. Zagreus’ hand remains dutifully on him, now covered in cum, until Pat shoves it away. “My Gods,” Pat whispers, laughing slightly. “You two are going to ruin me, one day.” 

Achilles’ laughter makes his head bounce, as he feels a hand run up and down his hip, soothing. “Only in a good way, I hope?” 

The corners of his mouth lift involuntarily. “Yes, I expect so,” he muses. Patroclus finally opens his eyes to find Zagreus stroking himself slowly, eyeing them. He shifts his hips just so to feel Achilles’ length against him, once again erect. 

He sighs dramatically, tangling one hand backward into golden hair. “Both of you– always insatiable. Really, it’s quite ridiculous. You’ve worn me out, you’ll have to go on without me,” he teases. 

He takes a spare rag to clean himself off, and by the time he’s done Achilles already has Zagreus against the wall once more, legs wrapped around his hips. Patroclus scoffs. 

Sleep isn’t necessary for shades, but when you’re dealing with a demigod and a God– well, it helps. He settles down onto their bed, letting Sleep’s sweet tendrils pull him down. 

*

The noise is what wakes him. 

Quiet gasps, throaty whines, hushed pleading. He shrugs off Sleep’s embrace in favor of savoring the noises. His eyes open slowly, adjusting to the low light in the room. 

“ _Hah,_ Achilles, fuck–” Zagreus gasps, rolling his hips down. The two had moved from their position against the wall to join Patroclus in bed apparently, lazily grinding against each other mere inches from where Pat had slept. 

“Shh,” Achilles soothes, and Patroclus would laugh at his attempt to be quiet if he weren’t focused on memorizing the lines of their bodies, the sliver of space between them. Achilles’ muscled forearm makes an obscene sight as he kneads Zagreus’ ass, fingers dipping lower, inbetween. 

One of the traits the two of them had found particularly tantalizing was Zagreus’ affinity for noise during sex; perhaps it was the close confines of war that bred Achilles and Pat to favor soft grunts and held-back moans. Being with someone so unapologetically _there_ was intoxicating. 

“Hgn, blood and–” Zagreus whines, hips jutting sharply against Achilles one, two, _three_ times before he gasps, and Patroclus watches as the sliver of space between their bodies is painted with cum. A quiet _“There’s a good lad, yes,”_ from Achilles only earns him a louder groan as the Prince moves downward, making quite the enticing sight for Patroclus as he takes the head of Achilles' cock in his mouth and sucks sharply. 

Achilles' mouth opens in a silent gasp, one hand threading itself in Zagreus’ hair as he guides him gently, pumping only a few times before arching off the bed and unloading into his mouth. 

The last coils of sleep had quickly worn off during their display, leaving Patroclus warm and filling with need. It isn’t until Achilles glances over that he realizes he’d been grinding small circles into their bed at the display. 

The grin that graces Achilles’ face is so reminiscent of their time on the surface it _hurts,_ only this time it’s not a distorted memory broken by his own hands cupping the Lethe. “Looks like our audience is finally awake, Zagreus. Do you think he enjoyed it?” Patroclus doesn’t remember that memory having as smart a mouth. 

“It’s not my fault for having a human stamina, my love. At least now you have someone to soothe your _godly_ desires, hm?” 

Part of him is being serious; in life their coupling often ended with Achilles finishing two or three more times thrusting between Patroclus’ thighs, with only a slight quirk of the eyebrow from Chiron at their frequent requests for oil. In wartime it wasn’t rare to share their bed with someone else, but he always preferred Patroclus to the trembling, scared thighs of frightened girls. 

Achilles chuckles, tangling one hand in Zagreus’ hair affectionately. “Yes, I suppose that is one of his talents. Not one I had the pleasure of teaching, mind you. But it was quite the pleasant surprise.” 

Pat wonders if there will ever be a day Zagreus doesn’t turn a lovely shade of red at the slightest mention of praise. He hopes not. “I’m just glad it’s not too much for you, sirs. Even with–” Zagreus stops suddenly, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck, “others, it could be a bit excessive.” 

His lips twitch as he watches Achilles bring a hand down slyly to grasp Zagreus, already half-hard once again. “It’s no trouble at all, lad. At least, for those of us that can keep up, it’s not.” 

“Wow,” Patroclus grins, eyes narrowed, “how sharp betrayal stings. My own love turned against me, why, I guess I’ll just go back to sleep then. At least I’m appreciated in my dreams.” He settles back into the pillows dramatically, eyes closed as he hears laughter bubbling out from his lovers. 

“Come on, sir,” he hears Zagreus say, and suddenly there's a warm hand on his hip, Pat’s eyes opening at the touch. “I can be very appreciative of you, if you allow me to.” 

Patroclus leans up before Zagreus even finishes speaking, cradling one side of his face as he directs their lips together. Zagreus’s mouth is far warmer than it has any right to be– though this time it isn't his warmth that makes Patroclus groan, but the taste of Achilles he finds there. He sucks on Zag’s tongue, earning a groan in response as Zagreus pushes him onto his back to straddle him. 

He accepts this change in position readily, placing his hand on Zagreus’ hips, squeezing as Zag grinds down against him. The cum still wet on his cock drags against Patroclus’ own length, easing the friction. 

Patroclus gasps as their lips part, instinctively leaning up to chase after Zagreus. He’s met with a hand on his chest as Zag pushes him back down, shaking his head. Instead, he takes them both in one hand as he sits upright on Patroclus, rolling his hips as he fucks into his own fist. Pat can see Zagreus' jaw clench as he readjusts himself. 

“You–” Patroclus tries, but his mouth is suddenly dry. He licks his lips, eyes glued on Zagreus’ hand stroking his cock. “You can– inside me, if you’d like.” 

Zagreus groans, hand tightening around both their lengths. He meets Pat’s gaze, eyes heavy-lidded and dark, and nods. Pat looks over to Achilles, who’s spread out casually palming himself at their display. 

Pat spreads his legs as Zagreus gets off his lap, settling between his thighs instead. His hands are the smallest out of the three of them, nothing like Achilles' thick fingers or Patroclus’ wide palms. Still, every time he uses them to touch Patroclus he’s gentle, almost infuriatingly so. Every time except for this, it seems. 

“Oh,” Patroclus gasps as Zagreus pushes a thumb in his hole abruptly, remnants of Achilles that he didn’t clean away slipping out. Zag pushes in further, before removing it entirely. A squeeze on his thigh grabs Pat’s attention, and he looks up just in time to see Zagreus suck his thumb into his mouth, cheeks hollowed. 

It isn’t often Patroclus feels a need to worship the Gods. 

There’s a pop as his thumb leaves his mouth. Zagreus smiles. 

Has Zagreus ever been worshipped? Prayed to, he wonders? 

There’s a flash of pink between Zagreus' lips. His tongue– poking out, a hint of white on its tip. 

Patroclus surges forward, grasping him by the neck, thrusting his own tongue forward in a way that would be off-putting if not for how Zagreus groans, pushing forward what he collected from his thumb. 

_Let me worship you,_ Patroclus wants to say. _How can something so beautiful not be adored?_

He sighs into Zagreus' mouth, tightening his grip as he feels Zagreus’ fingers travel downward again, now slick and leaving a path of oil in their wake. He breaks their kiss as Zagreus pushes two fingers in, withdrawing at the second knuckle only to return. 

Pat lets his head fall back against the pillow, content with the pace Zagreus has set. He looks over to Achilles. Golden hair falls against his tanned skin, stomach damp from where he had cleaned himself with a rag. Freckles and moles litter his body like constellations, and Patroclus remembers all the nights he had traced Orion and Scorpio on his back. “Come here, love.”

Achilles grins, scooting over to lean against Patroclus’ side. Zagreus curls his fingers just as they're about to kiss, causing Patroclus to bite down on Achilles’ lip sharply. Pat gasps, pulling away, thumbing at Achilles' mouth in apology. 

“No worries,” Achilles soothes, giving him a quick peck, “it was nice.” He casts a glance over to Zagreus, grinning. 

“Why do I get the feeling you two– _hah_ –are always conspiring against me, hm?” Patroclus asks, gripping onto Achilles’ forearm as Zagreus pushes his ring finger in. 

“Never, sir,” Zagreus retorts. Patroclus would laugh at his jokingly offended tone if Achilles hadn’t pulled him back in, nipping Patroclus’ bottom lip and kissing him sweetly. He brushes a hand down Patroclus’ front, fingers pausing at the slight dip in his stomach, the indentation of scar tissue. Achilles parts from him, resting his forehead against Patroclus’.

“Keep going,” Pat encourages, gripping Achilles’ wrist. “Touch me.” 

There are times when they need to hold each other, relearning the lines that mark each other's skin, the scars they never saw when they were alive. When the only reassurance they can get is through shaking shoulders gripping each other tightly. When Patroclus rambles on about Achilles like he’s talking to the statue that overlooks his glade and not _him._ This isn’t one of those times. 

Achilles continues, leaning over to kiss his neck, one hand stroking mindlessly through his dark hair. A self-soothing behavior, Pat’s learned. 

He focuses back on Zagreus’ fingers, his rhythm of pumping into Patroclus _five_ times before curling his fingers, _deep_. It’s wholly unnecessary– Pat is still loose enough from Achilles that he'll probably be fine without any fingers. Yet Zagreus keeps his pace like they have all the time in the world. 

“Come, Zagreus, as much fun as this is, there is something else that I expect could be better.” 

“Oh?” he questions, and before Patroclus can respond, Zagreus pushes his pinky finger inside. 

Patroclus gasps, back arching off the bed as Zagreus thrusts his fingers further, curling them on every stroke now. “That’s–” he started, “ _Gods,_ alright, you must stop or I’m–”

“Going to come, love?” Achilles teases, nipping at his shoulder. Patroclus bats at the hand Achilles has headed toward his chest, glaring. “No,” he insists, only panting a little. “No. Zagreus– inside. Now would be preferable.” 

They both glance at Achilles, who’d begun stroking himself after Pat’s dismissal. “You too,” Patroclus says to Achilles, brain melting at the sight. 

“What?”

“Not– both there, but, here,” he sighs, maneuvering onto his hands and knees in front of Achilles, glancing back at Zagreus. His cock bobs heavily between his open legs, he aches to touch himself but the position isn't very forgiving. 

“Are you sure?” Achilles asks, rising to balance on his knees, cock so close that Patroclus instinctively leans forward to lick at the base. “Pat,” Achilles chides, pulling back, “you’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“Yes.” He looks up at him, and back at Zagreus. “Please.”

 _“Blood and darkness,”_ he hears from Zagreus. Patroclus grins as he faces Achilles again and leans up to catch the head of his cock in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he feels Zagreus press up against him. 

His eyes close as he feels Zagreus push in– agonizingly slow, pausing after the first few inches. He groans around Achilles’ cock as a means of encouragement, but instead of pushing in further Zagreus pulls out completely. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” 

“Stranger,” Patroclus says, exasperated. “No, you didn’t. I thought our Achilles taught you how to fuck a man properly, did he not?” 

Achilles huffs above him. “Aye, lad, it’s alright. If he wants to stop you’ll know, I promise.” 

“Alright– I just, well, I want you to enjoy this too,” Zagreus replies, and Patroclus would roll his eyes if he weren’t so sincere. 

“He will, lad,” Achilles reassures, reaching a hand out across Patroclus’ back to grasp Zagreus’. “Come. Show him what I taught you.” 

The smart retort dies on his tongue as Zagreus slides inside, one smooth motion, pushing in until he feels his abdomen pressing against him. Patroclus looks up to Achilles almost in a daze. 

“Hah, I know. Here. Distract yourself,” he says, guiding his length back into Pat’s mouth, one hand tangling in his hair to rest on his scalp. 

Zagreus moves, pulling out until Patroclus can feel himself fluttering around the head of his dick, and slamming back in before he has a chance to complain. He can’t help the little _‘Mm– mmh!’_ noises he makes around Achilles, instead focusing on swallowing down a few inches, letting the movement of Zagreus fucking him move his mouth up and down. 

He looks up at Achilles– well, the best he can at this angle, and almost startles at the way Achilles is looking at him. Mouth slightly open, panting, a blush high on his cheeks that Patroclus knows for a fact carries down to his shoulders. He redoubles his efforts. 

“Oh, Pat, that’s– _oh,_ ” he gasps, “so good, you–” his eyes flash up to Zagreus. “Both of you, so good, Gods.” 

Zagreus groans from behind, thrusting in especially hard at this, and Patroclus distantly hopes the Prince’s fingertips will leave bruises from where they grip his hips. 

“You take us so well,” Achilles adds with a tone of wonderment. Pat moans, the vibration only making Achilles tighten his grip in his hair in response. He’s not usually one to seek out praise during sex– not like Zagreus might, and he doesn’t offer it as freely as Achilles. But something about having _both_ of them here, pleasing them at the same time– it’s addicting. 

Zagreus grunts and leans over Patroclus’ back so that he’s almost draped over him, changing his pace to quick, short thrusts that manage to hit that spot inside him. It’s so dizzying that he pulls back from Achilles, gasping. 

“See how he likes that?” Achilles notes almost conversationally, the bastard. “You’ve got him, Zagreus. Keep doing that and I bet you’ll come untouched, hm?” He lifts up Patroclus’ head with a finger, demanding his gaze. 

Patroclus can feel tears well in his eyes– his throat still burns, and Zagreus set such a punishing pace he can hardly think. Gods, he feels _good._ “Yes. Yes– just,” he leans forward to rub his nose and mouth against Achilles’ balls, sucking lightly. “Move me, love, with this.” He moves his head to gesture to Achilles’ hand gripping his hair. 

He sincerely hopes Achilles will just do it for Gods' sakes, as he doesn’t have the mental capacity to say anything else. He stretches back up to take Achilles in his mouth and waits, just holding him there. 

“How beautiful you are,” Achilles remarks, tucking some hair that flew into his face, now slick with sweat, behind his ear. “And how lucky I am. Not often we get you in this position, my heart. I’ll have to repay the favor, yes?” He thrusts lightly into Pat’s mouth. Patroclus feels a thumb brush against his cheek. “Would you like that, Zagreus?” 

“Yes,” their Prince gasps, hips stuttering at the question. “Yes, Gods, you’d look lovely, sir.” 

Pat moans around his cock in agreement, wrapping one arm around Achilles’ thigh in an attempt to move him closer. He’s still moving incredibly slow, barely dragging the head of his length against Pat’s tongue. He wants _more._

His own length has been weeping a steady flow of pre-come, and distantly he feels it drip down onto the bed. He couldn’t care if he tried as Achilles suddenly tightens the grip in his hair, forcing him still, and thrusts forward. He almost chokes and has to focus nearly all his attention on breathing through his nose. 

Achilles seems to time himself with Zagreus, pushing in when the other pulls out, leaving Patroclus constantly full. He can’t quite focus on anything else other than how deep he can feel each of them, leaving his body almost buzzing. The pleasure is his stomach is building, and he’d almost be embarrassed by how close he is– but his lovers don’t seem far off. 

“Sirs,” Zagreus gasps, “I’m– close, I want to– Gods how are you this _tight?_ ” Patroclus suppresses a whine at that, tears welling up further as he looks up at Achilles. 

“Me too, lad. Wait for Patroclus. Make him come first. Then, hah, then you can.” 

Zagreus grunts, hips readjusting so he can fuck into Patroclus even faster. He can feel drool dripping down from his mouth, but he can’t do much other than close his eyes and be held by his lovers. His orgasm is close– he knows it, but it’s not enough. He pulls back from Achilles, cock dripping saliva and pre-come. 

“No,” he turns his head to face Zagreus. “No, fuck– come in me, then I’ll come, I need you to–” his head drops as Zagreus hits his prostate, back arching in an attempt to keep that angle. 

“Ah, you want him to fill you up, hm? Can’t come without it, love?” Achilles says, caressing his face. “I understand. He does make the prettiest sounds when he comes, doesn’t he?” 

Patroclus nods, turning back to Achilles. He doesn’t realize there’s a tear falling down his cheek until Achilles wipes it away. “You’re alright, Pat, just close, hm?” 

“Yeah. Do you want to–” A particularly hard thrust from Zagreus cuts him off, so he mouths at Achilles’ cock instead, hoping to convey his message. “If you’re fine with it. I’m close as well, won’t last long.” 

He’s taking Achilles back into his mouth before he’s even done speaking, sucking gently as Achilles thrusts forward, much softer than before. “Gods, yes, Zagreus, lad, are you–?”

“I’m coming,” Zagreus pants, thrusting in deep one last time, completely flush with Patroclus. His hips buck as he feels Zagreus’ cock twitch and cum, excess dripping out– whether it's from him or Achilles, he’s not sure. He whines around Achilles as Zagreus fucks in one last time, the sound of it made obscene with the slide of cum, and then he’s _gone,_ dick twitching as he cums onto their bed. 

“Fuck,” Achilles growls at the sight, coming down his throat seconds later. “Gods. Pat.” He pulls out gingerly, helping Patroclus flip over onto his back, both panting. 

“Wow,” Zagreus adds, but Pat doesn’t even have the strength to open his eyes and acknowledge him. “Here,” he hears– Achilles? And suddenly there's a cup of water at his lips. He raises his head and drinks readily, the cool liquid soothing the rawness of his throat, washing away whatever he couldn’t swallow from Achilles. 

“You did wonderful, Pat. That was so good,” Achilles notes, taking the water from him to set on a side table. He’s just about to complain about his missing presence when Achilles returns, wrapping an arm around his chest and hitching a leg over. Zagreus joins on the other side of Patroclus, rag in hand. 

“Let me clean you, sir. Sorry, I got a bit messy,” Zagreus says, blush practically audible. It takes a few attempts to clear his throat before he’s able to speak. 

“You’re apologizing as if that wasn’t exactly what I wanted. Don’t be silly,” Patroclus reassures, letting Zagreus wipe across his stomach, down between his legs. They’ll soak later to fully cleanse, one of the benefits of Elysium. 

He catches Zagreus' hand before he finishes, and brings it to his mouth with a kiss. Zagreus melts at this, grinning, and leans down to kiss him soundly. Patroclus savors it, but only for a moment before he pulls back, patting the space next to him. 

“Come. You’ve shown me how Gods make love, yes, but how do they lay with me, I wonder?” Patroclus teases, as if Zagreus had never lain with them before. 

Zagreus laughs. “With lots of kisses and touching, at least in my experience. Maybe they’ll even feed you some pomegranates if you’re lucky.” 

Patroclus catches Achilles' hand, intertwining their fingers. He looks back to Zagreus. “I think I am. Very lucky indeed.” 

Yes– Fate is a messy thing indeed. It’s not for Patroclus to understand or try to bend to his will. But he wouldn’t trade his lot for anything in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> wow you just read 3.8k of pure porn! good job. 
> 
> i always love and appreciate any kudos or comments, if you have anything you'd like to see next (nsfw or not) please leave a suggestion! i love new ideas! 
> 
> if you want to follow my twitter it will be linked [here](https://twitter.com/transhermes)


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